


why not repair the cosmos?

by banditchika, GimmeBeans, Thespis_thot



Category: Destiny (Video Games), 少女☆歌劇 レヴュー・スタァライト | Shoujo Kageki Revue Starlight (Anime)
Genre: F/F, destiny au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2019-06-28
Packaged: 2019-09-27 11:16:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17160998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/banditchika/pseuds/banditchika, https://archiveofourown.org/users/GimmeBeans/pseuds/GimmeBeans, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thespis_thot/pseuds/Thespis_thot
Summary: A collection of Guardians' tales.Each girl fights the Darkness in her own way. All of them are radiant, and the Light that flows through them illuminates even the deepest shadows.





	1. your soul will know

**Author's Note:**

> this is more of a passion project than anything else! i've loved Destiny since the first game, and i recently rekindled that love when i found out my computer doesnt shart itself into oblivion running the PC version.  
> keep your eyes peeled for more content!  
> this chapter is written by GimmeBeans!

            Her body jolts to life as the first thoughts that float through the darkness of death find their way into her mind.

            “Oh, thank goodness,” a voice – somewhat distorted, like when someone talks into a fan – speaks right by her ear, “It’s time to wake up, Guardian.”

            She gradually remembers how to move, hands and feet adjusting so that she can sit up, eyes opening to look at the area around her.

            Wreckage.

            Flora climbs concrete, drapes across the walls and broken glass, some of which crunches under her body when she adjusts.

            When she looks at the voice, sees its floating shape – Ghost. How does she know that’s what it’s called?

            “Where…am I?”

            “Very good question,” pieces of its shell whir around and even spread out from the eye in its center, “short answer? I’m not sure. But what I do know is that we need to get out of here.”

            She nods, and slowly rises to her feet. She reaches upwards to run a hand through her hair and feels something hard in it. She pulls it down and stares at it while Ghost rambles on about…something. Chosen by the Light, going to the City, all bits of information she gets as she turns the crown-shaped hairpin around in her hands, running her thumb over the enamel finish. Something weighs in her gut and tugs at her heart, but she can’t place it – a feeling, maybe. Her brow furrows as she tries to think over what it is that’s missing.

            Her memories, for starters. “Who am I?”

            Ghost stares at her, pieces of its shell rotating around its bright electric eye. “You are a Guardian. A Titan.”

            “No. Who am _I_?”

            “Ah,” its whole shell tilts downwards, eye flitting back and forth across the ground as if searching for an answer, “Well…that’s up to you. With this new life.”

            Silence. Ghost whirrs around and guides her to hardly passable armor.

            She touches her hand to her hairpin again.

            “I think…I’m Karen.”


	2. grasp the bright side of nothing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maya, Junna, and Nana travel into the depths of the New Pacific Arcology on a rescue mission.  
> The horrors they find are innumerable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: haha im gonna wait to write the next piece for this  
> the dark kermit who lives in my brain: you thought  
> this chapter is written by GimmeBeans!

“Skadi,” she speaks to her ghost in a low tone as she pulls her robes close to her body like a security blanket, eager to keep the horrors of the Hive away from her, “these crystals…” Maya refused to touch them on principle. Anything in Hive territory made her skin crawl, but the foreboding sense that hung around her shoulders wouldn’t let up.

Her ghost flies over to the nearest one, casting analytical lights into the stones, illuminating their depths. “Void light,” Skadi speaks over the comms, causing Nana-77 and Junna to exchange glances.

“The Hive managed to get ahold of Void light? But that’s…” Junna’s voice comes in clear over the radio and she steps towards the crystal nearest to her, sending her own Ghost out to scan it. “This can’t be right.”

Nana-77 stands apart from them, and for once, Maya feels a sense of solidarity in the gloom that radiates from her, especially when she reaches out and touches one. If it were Arc light, or Solar light, then maybe this wouldn’t make her as uneasy as it does.

Maybe it wouldn’t make any of them as uneasy.

“We have to stop them,” Nana-77’s face is hidden by her helmet, the buzz of her voice module making it past their comm. channel’s noise reduction. Junna and Maya nod in agreement.

They make their way deeper into the Arcology, shattering Void crystals whenever they can. They wince with each crack. It’s all they can do not to look away when they pull the triggers on their firearms, not to watch the inevitable burst of Light from each one.

Maya resists the urge to grab shards of each crystal. Take them back, something to honor these lost Guardians. An object to study. A reminder of her own mortality; the Light can fade from even the brightest stars. The only sounds are gunfire and the dying shrieks of Thralls and Acolytes. The deeper they go, the clearer a fourth voice comes through, urging them to leave the area. But they can’t. They will see this through.

Maya never thought she’d prefer Nana-77’s taunts over absolute silence. It’s enough to drive her mad. With each room they clear, the perpetual fear she chokes down with each Hive mission shifts into something far easier to weaponize.

Her grip on her hand cannon tightens as she swings around, landing disgustingly precise shots on the scum that charge at her fireteam. A shriek echoes through the chitinous cavern, announcing the arrival of a Hive Wizard. Void light encases her gauntlets as a ball of purple energy coalesces in her palm. A grenade alone won’t be enough to end this, but it’s a start.

But the Wizard responds in kind, with a spell Maya’s used many a time before. A Nova Bomb flies into the space near her.

The vast nothingness within gives way to inescapable rage.

The Hive has no right to disgrace _her_ magic with their tainted hands. Too often are Voidwalkers compared to their Wizards. She will not let them become one in the same.

Everything after that is a blur. The Wizard dies, as do the next…she didn’t keep count. It doesn’t matter, anyways. Ozone permeates the air as the hardened exoskeletons vaporize under her palm.

And when it ends.

She barely remembers Junna grabbing the orb and slamming it down.

A heavy, sturdy hand on her shoulder rouses her from her fugue, her knees bent in front of the rising, dark chitin that held the fresh crystal in place. Maya lets out a slow breath, raising her head and looking at the rest of her fireteam.

She’s thankful her helmet hides her face.

“Skadi,” she’s tired. She must have pushed herself too hard, “Tell Ikora…”

Maya reaches out to the dead Ghost trapped in the chitin. Skadi floats at her shoulder, just above Nana-77’s hand.

“We have a lot more work to do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you can yell at me on twitter @KennieEH or on tumblr @yangxiao-long !  
> 


	3. When the Wind is Still

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaoruko and Futaba relax after their most recent trial in the Iron Banner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there y'all! I'm one of the contributors to this AU and this is my first chapter. let me know what you think, and I'll be writing a followup chapter pretty soon.
> 
>  
> 
> Keep your eye peeled for more content!
> 
> Edit: Just realized i never gave Kaoruko a number despite her being an Exo! Whoops...will be editing this chapter and Ch.5 to fix
> 
>  
> 
> This chapter was written by Thespis_thot

“I don’t think it was meant as a compliment…” Futaba said as she polished her pauldrons. The couple had just returned from their most recent trial in the Iron Banner, and despite a particularly crushing defeat, Kaoruko-4 floated through their shared room in the Tower like a cloud on a summer afternoon. 

“How could it not have been a compliment? That kinder-guardian on the other team obviously saw from my skill that I’m as unpredictable and powerful as a storm. What else could they have meant?” Kaoruko teleported her helmet into her ghost’s memory, each point of her crown digitizing as she admired the piercing gold of her synthetic eyes in the mirror. Their match had left the plating of her face smudged and in need of some touching up. Kaoruko floated down into her usual seat in front of her armoire and held out her hand expectantly. Her ghost pulled a handkerchief and polishing oil from her memories and materialized it into her Stomcaller’s hand. The lights surrounding her mirror sprung to life as she began to polish her beautiful metallic cheeks. A little bit of dirt, some oil, and some domesticated radiolaria spotted her face and were wiped away with meticulous care. Training to become an Iron Lord wasn’t the easiest job in the Tower but being able to have an impact on new guardians while looking absolutely regal made it worth it to her.

“That’s certainly a pretty picture you’re painting, but that Hunter said, ‘you don’t really seem like a Warlock to me’. Now I don’t know about you, but I don’t know Hunters to pay many compliments to anyone.” Futaba finished with her pauldrons before turning her attention to her breastplate, running her thumb over the scorched lines the Hunter’s throwing knives had left.

The Exo froze in the middle of her ritual. She slowly and neatly began to fold the handkerchief front of her before facing her wife. Her smile told Futaba she was in for a lecture.

“Now Futaba, dear…” Kaoruko rose and began a playful march to the futon where Futaba worked. “I do not believe that you have had enough social interactions with Hunters to make such a bold statement on their kindness. While I admit that they may be difficult to read, not every Hunter is the same. Junna spends more time buried in books than a large portion of the Warlocks I have studied with; and although her attachment to her knives seems almost obsessive, Hikari is more protective of her fireteam than Zavala is of the Traveler. You know most people see Titans to be as cold and uncaring as those walls you all seem so enthralled with. Now while there are certainly Titans who fit in that box, I know at least one who is kind, and has a beautiful smile, and who would sooner pick me some flowers than take up watch on a wall.”

Kaoruko let her hand rest on Futaba’s, the crackle of her light dancing and melding with her wife’s. She loved to joke that their attraction was magnetic, and their light was proof of it. Kaoruko’s lips gravitated to Futaba’s forehead, as they shared a rare quiet moment. Each of their lights burned a little brighter as they looked into each other’s eyes.

“So!” Kaoruko broke the silence with her usual chipper and flowery attitude. “To make sure that you do not embarrass the two of us in front of my numerous Hunter friends, you will accompany me to lunch this week with Cayde. We are getting ramen in the Bazaar as usual and I’m sure he would love to have you! He always asks about you anyway, how you are, what we’ve been up to, and some rather fun sounding pranks that only a Titan of your caliber could assist in.” Futaba chuckled at what that could possibly mean, as she reassured Kaoruko that she would be there.

“It’s a date then! Besides…” Kaoruko draped herself around Futaba, completely blocking any further armor polishing from being completed. She deviously played with her wife’s hair as Futaba set down her polishing cloth. “I need someone who will take all my spring onions from my lunch without giving me a hard time.”


	4. wherever your feet touch the ground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ignoble beginnings of the Hunter that would become Hoshimi Junna, and the Ghost selfish enough to bring her back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was reading the ghost stories book on ishtar and felt inspired to try writing in lore style!! it is, as it turns out, VERY fun. anyways, hope y'all enjoy!! 
> 
> This chapter was written by banditchika

Some Ghosts might have hesitated. Might have wondered what kind of world they were bringing a new Guardian into: Light fading fast, feeds from the City broadcasting nothing but chaos and ruin, the foundations of what being a Guardian was all about crumbling like Mercury sands. Some Ghosts might've been kind enough to spare their Chosen; fly away and leave the dead in peace, or wait for a time where they might have stood a chance against Humanity’s enemies. 

Not me, though. I'd been looking for my other half for too long. 

I find her in the wreck of some pitiful settlement off the coast of the Atlantic, a ways away from the EDZ. Well-hidden, tucked into a craggy cliff face, just deep enough to leave it untouched by waves, weather, and, for a time, Fallen raiders. Whoever had built the settlement had been clever. 

Not nearly clever enough, though. 

She's in the ruins of what once might have been a makeshift schoolhouse, if the shattered writing slates scattered on the floor are anything to go by. 

Hers isn't the only body littering the floor. I see others: the limp arms of a slain Vandal stretched out beneath a broken desk and little bodies, little faces, tragedies that should horrify me.

But I don't have time to think about it. There’s something like static running through me. I’ve never felt anything like it before. And if that ain’t a sign that something's wrong, horribly wrong, well... 

Here's the thing about being a Ghost: we're filled with the Traveler's Light, always, whether we've found our Guardian or not. But we don't think about it. Or at least, I don't; not until I feel it slipping away. 

No. Ripped away, violent. 

I'm afraid. I've been gone so long. But every Ghost knows where to find information, and I connect to the City's feeds to find... madness. Zavala's barking desperate orders, Ikora's rage warps the lines, and periodically, the bark of a hand cannon will crack the din. On the city-wide channel, emergency broadcast: rendezvous coordinates, panicked instructions. They're evacuating the entire planet. 

And the Traveler... oh, the Traveler.

This is the worst possible time. The worst possible circumstances.

My Chosen is slumped over a Dreg's corpse. She has not fared well, but the splintered, blackened chair leg by her hand tells me just as much as a fully-recorded log would. If I had more time, I would have been pleased. My other half was strong. Brave, even during the last moments of her last life. Bodes well. Doesn't every Ghost hope their Guardian will be a hero? 

I'm sure I think about the consequences at least a little before I raise her. But mostly I'm desperate, panicked. 

But once I decide? 

It's almost outside of my control. I feel myself expand, the last of my Light coalescing, and it engulfs her. 

She rises. I fall. 

"What?" she gasps, stumbling to her feet. She's clumsy, newly-risen and confused, and her toe knocks against my shell, sending me skittering away. 

"Guardian," I croak. My voice is distorted, crackling. "Guardian."

She scoops me up. "What… what are you? Where am I?" Her eyes dart around the room. "What happened here?" 

"I can explain..."  _ Later, _ I want to say, but all that comes out is buzzing static. My Guardian looks so afraid. I can only imagine how she feels, reborn on top of a corpse, in a room filled to the brim with tragedy. I force myself to speak again. "You are a Guardian. Chosen by the Traveler. I am your Ghost." My voice is beginning to crackle again. I can't even find the power to move, Lightless and empty as I am. 

But I have my Guardian, and for her I have to try.

"We are in danger. We have to run..."

 

* * *

 

My Guardian is silent as we work our way to the EDZ. I'm still connected to the comms. I tell her what I can. 

The Red Legion has taken the City. The Vanguard, gone. Guardians slain. So much noise. She nods when I tell her these things, though she doesn't understand—not really. She hasn't seen the Last Safe City. She doesn't know what it means that it has fallen. 

My Guardian knows nothing of the valor and values I've witnessed for centuries. She's fantastic anyway—clever, brilliant, determined. I'm already so proud of her. She skirts along Cabal patrols, sneaks through Fallen camps. My Guardian steals a wire rifle one night, and something about having a weapon in her hands changes her. 

She's not afraid anymore. Now, she's angry. 

She picks off a small Fallen patrol all on her own and buys a group of refugees another day. She's a good shot, and even though I'm running on empty, watching her be a Guardian fills me up with something bright. Something like hope.

It doesn’t last.

For all her cunning, my Guardian is still Lightless. She's never felt the Golden Gun burning through her, nor the crackle of an Arcstrider's staff. That worked to her advantage, for a while. She has only been resurrected the one time. She knows not to be careless with her second—and I fear—final life. 

It is not enough. Not with the Red Legion on the march. 

They have her. Tied up, no escape. They've got me too, but me? They don't need to bind  _ me. _ I can't leave her, I can't. Not after I've just found her. 

They’d made her choose: her safety, or her charges’ lives. But it wasn’t much of a choice at all, not for her. So she stayed and fought and got caught. The Cabal had killed the refugees anyways. Because they could. Because it made my Guardian scream. 

One of the Cabal Legionaries pull her up by the neck and I hate them, all of them, these red-armored, grunting beasts. Hope someone razes them down after we’re gone. Hope someone makes ‘em hurt, ‘cause as much as I wish it were us, this is the end of the line.

No way out. Nowhere to run. Lightless and restrained. This isn’t the way a Hunter should go. She doesn’t even have a gun in her hand, but I see her look up and meet that beast’s beady white gaze, and—

I’m proud. 

Despite it all, I’m proud. I’m going to die proud. I’m so full of regret that I think I’d be sick with it if I could be, but I’m so proud of her.  

My Guardian. My poor, brave, too-young Guardian. 

I wish—

And a rifle barks. My Guardian falls from the Legionary’s claws. It crumples to the ground with a perfect little hole between its eyes and I almost laugh. 

Yeah. Yeah, I know. I know, but when you’re that scared and death is seconds away? Everything seems funny. Especially when the universe throws you a thread of hope, and the four-fingered hand tightening around your shell loosens, and you’re free and your Guardian is near and the rest of the enemy is falling one-by-one, dead before they hit the ground. 

It’s an opportunity and my Guardian takes it. She breaks out of her binds and springs to her feet. She has a knife in her boot, a little one, but it’s more than enough to breach the gorget around the last Legionary’s throat and send a spray of black pressure gel flying. 

The Cabal that had nearly ended us lie dead and limp.  _ That’s  _ when I laugh. 

“Not bad, Kinderguardian!” cries a voice. A hooded figure slides from the shadows of a ruined building; she’s cloakless, but her gait gives it away. Our mystery Hunter, our savior, strides across the ruined asphalt with easy confidence and the barrel of a sniper rifle sprouting over her shoulder. 

She stops in front of my Guardian and plants her hands on her hips. “Could be faster. Could put a little more force behind that knife—but altogether, not too bad.”

My Guardian makes a face. There’s blood dribbling down her chin, an ugly gash just under her eye. I bet another Hunter’s bravado, no matter how impeccable her aim, is the last thing she wants to deal with right now, but she still grinds out a polite, “You rescued us. Thank you,” and dips her head in a bow that could flatter even the most arrogant Warlock.   

What a diplomat, my Guardian. 

Our savior waves a dismissive hand. “No need for  _ that. _ Hunters look out for each other in the wild. And right now,” she says, gesturing at the wreckage around us, at the bodies strewn on the ground, “there’s no place wilder.” 

I buzz around my Guardian’s head. After our near-miss, I want to be as close as I can. “We’d be dead if you hadn’t stepped in,” I offer. “My Guardian and I, we just found each other. Now we’ve got more time. Thank you.” 

“Polite. I get the feeling you usually aren’t,” the Hunter teases. She turns to face my Guardian. “So, Spark—you have a name, or will I have to call you Kinderguardian all the way to the Farm?” 

My Guardian blinks, confused. “Farm?”

“Farm. It’s a safe place. A refuge. Guardians are gathering there to strike back.” The Hunter folds her arms. “Better than wandering into every Cabal patrol in the region, right?” When my Guardian doesn’t answer, she snaps her fingers and asks, “So: your name?” 

“What’s yours?” my Guardian counters. The Hunter’s helmet obscures her features, but the roll of her shoulder is exasperated as she looks my way. 

“You’re sure you didn’t raise a Warlock?”

“Nah, but she shoots like a Hunter, I swear.” 

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” To my Guardian, the Hunter says: “I’m no one of consequence. Just another Hunter, passing through. You’re one. We’ll see plenty more on the way. The EDZ’s lousy with us, now.” 

“That’s not a real answer,” my Guardian whispers, brow furrowing. She shakes her head and straightens. There’s a fire burning in her eyes, and I let the pieces of my shell whirl around my core, as close to a pleased flourish as I can get. The difference between them could not be more stark: my Guardian in a refugee’s rags, bleeding all over, and this seasoned Hunter in arms and armor that no amount of travel wear could dull. 

But still. Still. 

My Guardian’s the very image of a Hunter. And I couldn’t be prouder. 

“My name is Junna. Let’s see this Farm, then.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> junna's ghost, a summary  
> gender: bastard  
> personality: hunter  
> likes: junna, gallantry, and not asking for people's names; including their guardian's


	5. Then a Hurricane Came

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaoruko copes with the events of Forsaken, the shore is not prepared for the coming storm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, here comes the angst! I hope you all enjoy! Follow me on tumblr @your-thespian-dumbass
> 
> Edit: just a few grammer edits and some notes on Kaoruko's Exo status

Dust rolled across the desolate asteroid. The distance this conglomeration of rock and space debris had from the sun cast a constant dusk over the shore. Those who live in the Tangled Shore do whatever they can to survive, and the only people who travel here come with an agenda. Futaba had arrived here with her wife on a mission of justice, but not much progress had been made since they arrived. Not much of anything happened since the Vanguard broke.

It was just supposed to be a normal mission. Cayde-6 needed help with something outside the tower and someone he trusted on his fireteam. Kaoruko-4 jumped at the chance and eagerly volunteered; she had told Futaba not to worry and that she would be back soon. She kissed her wife and saw her smile before being transmatted into her ship. 

That was the last time Futaba saw her wife smile.

Kaoruko returned alone. 

Futaba waited at the usual place they dock their ships, expecting to hear all about the latest adventure. The Exo left her crown on as she phased into the tower hanger, something dark yet iridescent smudged against one side of the visor. Futaba couldn’t make out what it was. 

Dirt? 

Hive blood?

Maybe a little bit of gun oil?

As the last thought crossed her mind, Futaba became worried. It wasn’t oil from a gun, it was from an Exo.

“Kaoruko? Is everything alright? Come on, let me take you home.” Futaba tried to guide her arms around her partner to get her comfortable, but Kaoruko didn’t budge. She slowly and very deliberately clasped her hand around Futaba’s. Cherry materialized next to the couple and tried to keep her shell together as she spoke.

Kaoruko stayed silent.

“She…doesn’t want to leave him alone on the ship…she’s worried something…might happen if she leaves his body alone for too long…”

Futaba tightened her grip on her wife.

“Cherry, get the Vanguard. Now.” The Ghost sped off immediately as Futaba helped Kaoruko down into a seated position, their hands still tightly clasped as she tried to comfort her mourning wife.

The next few days passed in a blur. Cayde was given a funeral, a large service held in the City. Kaoruko spoke softly and infrequently. Zavala had said that the City would not pursue Cayde’s murderers in order to keep the City safe. Futaba saw lightning crackle across Kaoruko’s knuckles as she clenched her fist at Zavala’s decision. While Ikora couldn’t directly help them, she told them where to start their search.

That’s how they ended up on this desolate space rock. Futaba was searching through several Fallen encampments for Kaoruko. She had slipped away as soon as she’d heard the names of the Barons who had helped Prince Uldren kill Cayde. Futaba was so used to hearing her Wife’s voice, that her silence made her invisible.

That had been hours ago. Futaba had been directed by some fear-rattled Dregs, telling her about a single Guardian who had taken the Shore like a hurricane. Dregs swept aside by thunderous blows, Vandals blinded by the lightning radiating off their cloak, and Captains vaporized by the sheer force of a condensed beam of Arc power. It didnt sound like the intricate and highly choreographed dance Kaoruko usually fought in, but it was better than nothing.

Futaba had cornered a Dreg, and the questioning was getting repetitive.

“Now I’m getting tired of asking this, Zaviks. Where. Did. The. Guardian. Go?”

The Dreg shrunk with each pause Futaba took. “Zhaa’vicks has told you all Zhaa’vicks knows! The War Lock singed Captain, broke the Scorn, and went to the place where the Dead One lives!”

Futaba’s fist crackled with light as it struck the wall behind the Dreg. Its mandibles cinched in fear.

“If you tell me one more time that she walked into the den of the second most powerful Scorn on this waste of rock, alone, I will personally reacquaint you with your Cap-“  
The entrance to the Baron hideout exploded violently. Scorn began to flood out of the base, several being dropped by a flash clouded in the smoke of the entrance. A deliberate cadence made the Scorn fall. Three pops, and another one dead.

As the smoke cleared Futaba saw the Storm that had ravaged the Shore. Her feet were planted firmly beneath her. Her boots were unrecognizable, overflowing with strands of her Arc energy, tethering her to the asteroid. The Storm drew energy from the air around her, becoming filled from the bottom up with a radiant and oppressive power. Her robes had become frayed at the edges and singed. The grace and beauty were there, but in the same way statues in the EDZ could be seen as beautiful despite the conditions they have endured. In her gauntlets she held a pulse rifle, one perfect for those exploring the Shore. With rustic dials and tools built into the stock and coordinates scrawled along the grip in ink, it seemed equal parts map and weapon. The most drastic change was her helmet. Kaoruko’s normal Iridescent Crown had been replaced with a black helm hobbled together from the pieces of a Fallen Shank. The helm locked its gaze on Futaba and the Storm began to chart a course for her.

Zaviks had long since scurried away, but Futaba was only focused on her wife. She was marching slowly towards Futaba, like a devastating storm on the horizon. The air felt warmer now, Kaoruko radiating energy that Futaba had never seen.

Every hair underneath Futaba’s armor stood on end. There was quiet. The Shore was in chaos and ravaged by the pain that the Storm had wrought, but in the eye of this storm they felt like the only life for light-years. Every muscle in Futaba’s body seized up as her love reached towards her. Like a thunder crack, Kaoruko collapsed.

Futaba caught her wife and felt the grip against her pauldrons tighten.

“...Kaoruko?” Concern clung on every letter that passed Futaba’s lips.

She didn’t get a response.

Kaoruko’s chest heaved silently against the chestplate of her wall. Futaba held her close for what feels like the first time in years. The communicators in their helmets linked together and was flooded with the sound of tears. Futaba helped the two of them down to their knees, as Kaoruko wept into her embrace.

“I…I can’t do it…Futaba, I couldn’t save him! I should have done something, but I was as helpless and as useless as always! If Cayde had taken another Hunter or if you’d been there, then he’d…” Kaoruko cut herself off as another downpour of tears flooded Futaba’s helmet. Futaba let the them flow, the floodgates had been up for too long. It was time for some relief.

“If I had been a better Guardian, he wouldn’t have died. I’ve been lazy, if I had been trying to get better this wouldn’t have…”

“But you are better.” Futaba opened up a piece of her chest plate and let Kaoruko’s hand rest against her heart.

“You have been an inspiration in our Iron Banner matches. You have helped to bridge the gap between the different classes of Guardians. You burn brighter than any light in this Solar System. Don’t ever say you aren’t a good Guardian, you’re the best one I know. You're my Hero” Kaoruko was shocked, she adjusted herself so that she could look Futaba in the face. She had been so caught up in what she could have done better, she never stopped to think about the good she already did. They clasped hands as Kaoruko composed herself.

“It’s just…I thought I was done being afraid of losing friends for good. I was terrified in those weeks after the Tower fell. No light. No immortality. No hope. And… I thought I didn’t have to worry about losing you anymore…but if Cayde could be taken away…what’s to stop someone from taking you?” Kaoruko dropped her visor, trying to hide from the thought she had vocalized, but Futaba tightened her grip.

“Then we will just have to fight together,” Futaba said “You make me invulnerable, and any force of Darkness that tries to move against us won’t stand a chance. Just…don’t leave me alone again, please?”

Kaoruko smiled for the first time in days.

“I promise…Futaba, dear?”

The Titan's heart grew warm. “Yes?”

“There is something I think I will need your help with.”

Kaoruko removed a small crude scroll from her belt. It was ripped awkwardly, but the purple cloth was tightly bound in a leather strap. Kaoruko handed the scroll to her wife, who held it with reverence and wonder.

“What is it?” She unrolled it and was greeted with nine names, seven of which had already been crossed out in thick black ink.

“I need help killing Uldren.”

Futaba looked up at her wife from the nearly completed hit-list. She was shocked, confused, and maybe more than a little bit impressed. It was Kaoruko's turn to be fireteam leader, with no argument from her. She held the list tight and spoke.

“Ok, where are we going?”

Kaoruko pulled out a map, using her pulse rifle as a legend.

“That’s just the thing: the Machinist said that Uldren and Fikrul were headed to an old Awoken structure on the Shore now as the Watchtower. And I can see it, taunting me from the horizon, but I have no idea how to get there.”

Futaba checked the coordinates and the spots on the map. Kaoruko had been all over the shore. The web of broken ships and tethered asteroids seemed impossible to navigate. Unless you knew where to look.

Futaba looked up and grinned.

“I think I know just the Awoken to ask. Come on, Petra has been asking about you.”


	6. The Weight of History

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The early days of Claudine resurrected in a strange and hostile world. She must journey to the last safe city on Earth and try and forge herself into a proper Guardian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all! Long time no see! 
> 
> Here's the next chapter of our AU, I wrote it while the Destiny servers were down the other day.
> 
> I plan on writing another chapter from Claudine's perspective during the Dark Below, so stay tuned for that.
> 
> Follow me on tumblr @your-thespian-dumbass or on Twitter @BrntHrn

Claudine exemplified Titan Strength.  


She was raised in the center of a Golden Age city, structures reaching and winding towards the open air. An iron spire piercing the uncaring sky could be seen down the street, flanked by crumbling brick and decaying instruments of war. The only sound was the ominous hum of a ship patrolling not two blocks away.  


Fallen. Her Ghost informed her of the savage pirates hunting for the machine god that abandoned them  
House of Kings based on the banners it flew.  


Claudine held her helmet tight and slipped over her head. She didn’t know where she was, she was barely remembering how to breathe, but shed be damned if some scavengers were going to be her end this day.  


A patrol crashed their way through a store front. Must be looking for supplies, their guards were lowered. No human had walked these streets half a century.  


They were cocky.  


Claudine could use that.  


She crept in quiet, only a Dreg to be seen riffling through the rotted wood boxes in the back. The rest must have gone upstairs.  


Perfect way to test out these newly awakened bones.  


Claudine charged full force into the Dreg. Right as it started to turn around, her shoulder connected with its jaw cracking it against her weight. The Dreg hissed out ether in its final moments as it was crushed between the guardian and the concrete wall.  


Claudine rolled her shoulder as she heard the floorboards above her creak with the weight of life. She smiled beneath her visor as she charged up the stairs.  


The next Dreg crashed through the doorway as the new Titan sought to test her metal. Two vandals screamed in protest as they drew their weapons. Claudine charged the first and started to choke it with the alien rifle against the opposite wall, it’s mandibles gnashing at her faceplate.  


The second fired a cadence of bolts into Claudine and she felt the shielding of her armor begin to fail. She shoved a thumb into the trigger well and let the weapon blast the Vandal onto it’s back, the pinned pirate finally slumping to the floor. Claudine lept onto the last remaining Fallen and began wailing on it with her fists. The creature slashed and stabbed at her, but Claudine did not relent.  


She caught her breathe as the room fell motionless.  


Her moment of victory cut short as the bark of a wire rifle from across the street ended her new life.  


Only to be risen moments later by her ghost.  


Claudine rose in confusion but quickly found cover as she took note of her surroundings.  


“As long as I’m around I can bring you back from the dead. You’re a Guardian. A Titan more accurately. There’s a lot of Darkness in the world and it’s our job to be the Light that sends them running.” The words filled Claudine with pride.  


Her laughter filling the streets as the pain from her mortal wound slipped into memory.  


Claudine left a trail of broken King’s banners ten miles long, before she ever found a firearm. She marched for days in the direction her Ghost set her on.  


She came across caravans of mortal humans who told her stories of the Collapse from around their campfires. She learned of the old days, where those early risen sought to rule Earth through a clenched fist until they were driven away by a pack of iron wolves. These wolves fell into a collection of other splintered camps of bright hearted Risen. They banded together and began to build safety, a single spark of a campfire flourished into a city.  


Claudine learned of the many battles the city fought against the Fallen. How Titans like her had held the wall around the city and were the bastion that the darkness crashed against. She learned of Six Fronts and of the Twilight Gap. She learned of a Titan known as Saint-14, who brought flame and battle to Fallen across the tangle of planets she was a part of.  


Claudine was proud of her lineage and of her light before she ever met another Guardian.  


Only a day’s hike from the city, Claudine was met with a new, horrifying life.  


A strange ship had buried itself in the rusted-out carcass of a Golden Age transport, completely alien to anything she had seen before. Its jagged black edges illuminated only by some form of green fire that burned within its core. The interlocking sections of the hull resembling bone more than any metal she had seen. As she ran her hand along the surface, a panel hissed to life and a distinct roar rose from within.  


From the darkness of its interior came monsters unlike anything Claudine had ever faced. Skeletal creatures with gnashing teeth and chitinous skin, rushed out of the ship ten at a time. Their layering screams and slashing claws drowning out Claudine’s cries of fear. A full clip from her auto rifle was enough to drop the first wave, but more emerged from the depths of the ship spurred on by a larger creature with three piercing green eyes and a weapon that looked like it was bred rather than forged.  


As the fresh wave closed the gap to Claudine, she reacted on instinct and let her fist connect with the nearest of her assailants.  


Arc energy sparked from her fist as deep blue strands jumped from body to body until only Claudine and the creature with three eyes remained.  
Claudine was furious.  


She let loose the shotgun strapped to her back and unloaded every shell into the bony creature’s carapace. She stood atop the body of her defeated foe and collected herself. Beneath her the creature shuddered, causing Claudine to flinch and wind up her weapon like a club.  


From between two segments of armor that the creature had called skin, slithered a grotesque three eyed worm. The same piercing green eyes as the creature it inhabited stared up at the titan in fear before quickly escaping into the bowels of the ship.  


Claudine shook herself back to her senses.  


Her ghost scanning the runes emblazoned on the walls and comparing it to its limited database. She discovered the species was known as the Hive and hey had a firm grip on Earth’s moon after slaughtering a thousand guardians upon its surface. The message in the wall was difficult to translate, but not impossible.  


“You are my blade, and I will use you to cleave this world in my Father’s name. I am Crota and all shall fear me.”  
That name etched into her mind like a knife making its mark into wood.  


Crota.  


Sounds like the kind of guy who could use a sturdy shoulder to the gullet.  


Claudine resumed her slow trod to the city. The sight of the Traveler acting as her heading, she was renewed. She’d finally be able to see the city that she had heard myth and legend of on her long trek, perhaps she’d even meet some of the other Guardians she had heard so much about.  


Claudine’s mind wandered with joy as the reflection of the moon hung in the midday sky, harboring a hunter beneath its bright white crust long thought slain. This tortured soul will soon claw her way back to the city with tales of woe and the unbearable terror that awaits in the dark below.


End file.
